Pomp and Splendour

[legendaryextras]

This gala promises to be a gala like none that have come before. Weeks have been spent in preparation, and the kitchens have been working at full strength throughout the day to produce the most exotic foods for their guests to sample. In the great hall, the decorations have not been spared, and the pageantry lavish; great tables line its perimeter

Comments

[spidey2099]

Sir Miguel of O'Hara is not amused, but this beats riding horseback. The clothing is uncomfortable and clingy and puffy and strange, and he laments the brief fad of the late 2080s that brought some of this back.

Glancing around the great hall, he has to remind himself that he's doing this so he can walk comfortably.

"I have no idea how we are supposed to help teenage girls find husbands."

[land_n_sea]

"Well, there is likely some reason, I am guessing the girls themselves, that they have not been matched already. It should start with being observant, don't you think?" Namor, however, looks readily at ease with his attire, even if his ankle wings have been bound against his legs.

[canadiansixpack]

"They are somewhat renowned for their ... spirited nature," Duke Howlett replies, a chalice of deep red wine held in one gloved hand as he surveys the rapidly growing attendees. The orchestra has struck up a quiet, but prompt and energetic theme. He glances up towards the royal balcony, upon which two of the girls have appeared, somewhat prematurely, but clearly interested in the goings-on below.

[guthrie_gals]

Paige is faking her interest. She's monumentally bored with all these functions. And her godforsaken sister insists on crashing her fun whenever it looks like she might have a prospect lined up. She flutters the intricately carved sandalwood fan in front of her face, assessing the arrivals below.

"I swear to Almighty God, Joeline, if you step on my toes tonight, I shall make sure there is an asp waiting for you in your bed."

[all_zoned_out]

Young Sir Richard is somewhat annoyed at the lack of a fanfare to announce his presence - he's been the squire to the land's greatest nights, an accomplished troubador, a man of a thousand talents - and an ego near to match.

He snaps his fingers to bring one of the servants to his side, claiming a cup of wine from the tray, and sipping it as he looks around the room.

[blackcatstyle]

"La, Sir Richard." The white-haired beauty flirts her fan at him. "Such a face should not be spoiled by such a stormy expression."

[spidey2099]

Miguel might be checked out of the suitor search now that he's caught sight of the bright-haired woman in the unbelievable corset.

"I may have just reconsidered my stance on these fashions."

[all_zoned_out]

"Sometimes, fair lady, I think that my life is cursed. To be bound to attend gala after gala, as a sort of penance for the excitement of my younger days. Not to say that there aren't bright spots.."

[guthrie_gals]

Melody descends the staircase, casting her gaze across the floor. She barely noticed the deference afforded her presence anymore, though she occasionally wishes some of them would stop trying to kiss the dirt when she walks by. It's very difficult to look someone in the eye when they're doing that.

Slowly she floats by, not really considering her levitation to be entirely out of the ordinary, and eyes the tall dark stranger with the oddly pointed ears.

[land_n_sea]

Namor is standing near to the conversation with Miguel and the white haired lady. He is not commenting on it, simply watching for the time being. If Miguel wishes to attempt to pick up the ladies of the time, far be it from Namor to stop him.

[legendaryextras]

"--no, sooner would I cut off my own swordhand, but--" The speaker's gesture is too broad, and his hand ends up lightly striking the stranger. Instantly he whirls. "I pray your pardon, sir. I fear I drew myself too deeply into my own tale."

[land_n_sea]

Namor's first reaction is to strike back but as his hand begins the raise, the other man is already apologizing. "I understand how a good tale can be all encompassing, sir."

[widowhood_bites]

A brief fanfare sounds, heralding the appearance of her majesty Queen Natasha.

[_steelmagnolia_]

The Marchioness is standing on the outskirts of the ball, watching the dancers move around the ballroom. There are interactions on the fringes of the music and people swirling in and out and around. She has a fan out, flicking it from time to time in front of her face. There are many interesting people here this evening.

When the Queen is announced, she curtsies low to the ground, her veil sweeping the ground.

[widowhood_bites]

The queen makes a point of smiling graciously to all of her subjects, though she may not always reveal the reason for the smile. When she approaches the marchioness, however, the smile softens. "Our dear marchioness ... how are you enjoying the gathering?"

[_steelmagnolia_]

"As I enjoy most of them, Your Majesty." From the sidelines these days. At one point, she would have been dancing with anyone who asked but those days are behind her.